Bartender, I Asked for a Snowball, Not This
by HappySlasher
Summary: A sunny vacation in the Carribeans for Christmas sounds nice for any group of hard-working friends in need of some time off, right? Or maybe when you've got HBK booking your flight, vacation's not all its cracked up to be...
1. Chapter 1

Well :D my other storyies are on standby for a while -3- (stinkin school) BUT...BeautyKillerRhodes and myself are typing up this one together. Please enjoy XD

Disclaimer: We own nothing but our own wierd brains!

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><p>The Viper narrows his gaze to the window, looking past Cody and his tirade of hushed complaints about having to sit in the same row next to Cole, even if he was separated with Orton between them. In his other ear, Cole had been talking about his own personal greatness… or something that Randy was ignoring; a precious skill in their past several months of dating and marriage. His silver eyes follow the snow falling outside their not-at-all-private plane, he wasn't so annoyed anymore when he thought about how it would soon be all gone and they would be landing in the tropics, watching Cody and Ted saunter around on the beach like sex Gods and; in their not-so-family vacation, as Cole had to just invite the rest of his friends: watch Riley try to hide John Morrison's body in the sand the second he stepped off his surf board in his array of Impress-Miz kind of tricks… and of course, Swagger in all of his not-so-glorious singleness, attempting to secure a vacation fling.<p>

He closes his eyes for a moment, a sly grin playing on his face as he imagines the better part of his winter vacation in the tropics. Especially the parts that included Cole causing them both to fall out of their beach hammock and the all too sensual way that Cody gets out of the water. He opens his eyes and smiles at Cole, a little more dirty than he'd hope; but at least that probably gave some kind of signal for the Mile High Club as a thank you on their way back home.

"So… where are we going to, anyway?" he finally asks, now that they had all been boarded onto the plane, this seemed like an okay time for Cole to finally reveal his secret winter vacation plans that he put together with Shawn Michaels on their fishing trip before the show in California back in November; at least the weather had been much warmer there than it was in New York the past few weeks.. But Randy hadn't been on the Raw show to enjoy the weather on the West.

Cole smiled up at the Randy and patted his leg. "I cant tell you that. Its going to be a surprise." Too long had it been since the announcer had a break. Too long had it been since he actually had a break with HIS Randy. Now it was his time. Sure he had to bring everyone else along including Randy's "Boys" but spending time with his love was more important, right? "You should really be thanking me for this whole thing- everyone should! It was my idea!"

The brilliance of the whole trip really fell on Shawn, though. The man heard his plea and worked magic on the new COO for some off time. Maybe it was a little low but even Cole knew he was no saint. Michaels was truly something else but that was a whole different story.

Two whole weeks in the Caribbean. He was sure the tan man was thinking about all the adventures that were sure to come their way. Oh the crew and their antics never grew old. But he was really hoping to hit the nude beaches. Okay… maybe it was a little on the perverse side but the Adonis loved the attention, craved it and he had no problem giving him just that. Sun glistening off the tan skin, he let his mind drift into serenity as he anticipated the lovely scene. A sigh of joy passed his lips softly and he looked out at the frosty window. Only a few more hours.

"You all will be reaching your destination soon so please stay seated."

Cole rose to the flight attendant, questioningly.  
>"No sir, it doesn't take that long to get to your destination."<br>Why was the ride so short? They were on the right plane...right?

"Carribeans? No! This plane goes to..."

There was an uproar on the plane as everyone turned with wide eyes.

"This plane goes to Sweden?"

The Viper's ears ring to Cole's screech in a fashion that would only be known as the sound of a microphone too close to a speaker. His fingers twitch, matching his eyelid that shifts the silver contact over his killer red optics ever so slightly. Finally they clench, crushing the baby & parenting magazine in his hands: his latest issue that he'd been subscribed to for the majority of his adult life and completely book marked with critical areas to compile with back home. He hisses vilely, turning slowly to Cole and completely ready to strangle him if he wasn't so certain that this was his last husband, and his last chance to put all of his pent up baby-skills and child-bearing hips to meaningful use. The oxygen to his brain was also quite crucial, any less brain cells and he would have never picked up on his wishes…

The calm before the storm sets in quickly, he rolls his shoulders and tosses his head slowly from side to side, bending down to pick up the magazine that had fallen at the sleeping Cody's feet. He quickly slaps the magazine over Cole's head - so much for brain cell protection.

A hush falls over Miz; probably for the first time since take off. Swagger silenced from his bickering at Riley to have shut up Miz prior to the outburst that quieted everyone… he was already far too annoyed from sitting beside DiBiase.

"I did not leave New York to come to SWEDEN and rot in even more snow than that's at home! Why didn't you tell me about this! I'm going home on the next flight back!" he screams in anger, startling Cody awake beside him, out of a dream about Zelda… or Orton in a Zelda dress. The same narrowed eye glare that was a clear giveaway to a deadly RKO had he been in the ring.

"Look, now you woke up Rhodes! Would you just calm down? I can handle this!" Cole sadly pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He needed to get to the bottom of this...this huge mistake. Finally an answer.

"Hey, Coleminer, whats going on? You almost here?"

Cole just wanted to ring the neck of the man on the other side. "Micheals...where exactly did you book our flight because the attendant said we're heading to oh I don't know- SWEDEN!" He yelled into the phone.

"Oh yeah about that...well..." Shawn's nervous laugh told the whole story, and Cole let out a disheveled groan. Oh great, this is just what he needed.

"I'm sorry! Okay? See there were no flights to the Caribbean's because we booked so late and this was all they had left and...at least we'll have a white Christmas."

He hung up and called the only other person that could even possibly remotely help him out now, especially with the angered man beside him. "Hey, Josh? I need you, NOW!"

"What is it? Do you know what time it is here? And aren't you with Randy on a plane? Go in the bathroom and let him take care of you." The young man had obviously been sleeping.

"Not like that stupid. Look vacations going wrong already and Randy's mad. What should I do?"

There was a long pause and a sigh. "What did you do? Book the wrong flight?" Cole sighed again.

"Thought so. Well all I can say is make the best of what you can. It's almost Christmas. Get him something nice."

Cole rolled his eyes and looked back over to the beautiful man. He got back to his conversation. "I guess if that's the best you can give me...alright. Kiss Bourne good night for me." He heard a gasp from Matthews and hung up with a smirk. When he looked out the window though, his grin faded and he rubbed his hand in his face.

"Why so down, Michael?" Morrison's voice only made him sigh harder. "We're almost there aren't we? Lets make this work." As the plane descended one thing went through his brain. Easier said than done.

Randy gets up in a huff, pulling Rhodes with him and storming over to where Swagger had been seated with DiBiase, bragging about his money under his breath.

"My only schedule this week is 12PM: Count my money, 5PM: Count my money, 10PM: count my money, 11 PM - Randy?"

"Oh so you're getting some kind of sex in that interval?" Swagger rolls his eyes before snapping into immediate anger at DiBiase mocking the lisp in his voice, about to react, he's thrown from his seat and into the isle, along with the unsuspecting woman that had the middle seat.

Randy doesn't care to acknowledge them, and the stewardess hurries them to different seats to get away from Orton. He moves the arm rest and settles against DiBiase with Cody toiling away seated beside them with his Nintendo DS. Teddy and his boy-scout good looks had always been the inevitable way to calm him down like nothing else.

With his magazine ruined and his Beauty Killer completely occupied with Zelda, he settles down at the lingering touch on his legs - DiBiase's compulsive desire. He takes the phone from his skillful hands and pulls up a list of airlines offering flights out of this snow covered country and to somewhere in the Caribbean. His stress boils over, as evident by the look on his face and the way Cody takes notice.

Due to the approaching snow storm, all flights out of the country had been canceled.

His head drops back onto the seats, his eyes glancing out of the window as the plane descended onto the approaching tarmac. Was he really stuck here? The God of hating anything remotely cold against his skin? The guy who slept in bed with a massive amount of comforters, heating blankets while having a heating pad on his side of the bed - even in summer? This was absolutely not happening.

"I think I'm going to kill him," Orton comments, to no one in particular, other than to make it known to himself.

His powerful glare sends away the air hostess telling him to sit upright with a seatbelt on as they descended.

What good was there in Sweden? Land of Ziggler, Chocolate and Ikea? He grumbles to himself, wondering if the Ikea's here had baby furniture that the States didn't have.

"Hey you made it! Welcome to Sweden!" Shawn could feel all of the evil glares but he tried to stand his ground.

He had to remain happy and try to make everyone else follow. The younger guys: easy. He could do that. They were a lot easier to please. Cole? Never pleased. That wasn't new. Cena: always pleased; the guy was happy anytime he was with Shawn. But Randy- Oh yeah, that was a mystery. When Orton got in his funk- which Shawn was absolutely sure he was in, being in this chilly climate, - he didn't know what to do.

"I know this isn't Cabo but I found a really nice ski resort."

Hunter sensed the unsure tone his love carried and stepped in front of him. Maybe he could address the masses better. "Look guys, I'm already paying for all this. We're gonna have a good time and heck, we probably will make memories these next weeks. So lets take it easy, kick back, and find someone to snuggle up to." He was about to wrap his arm around Shawn's slimmer shoulders but it was empty where the blonde once was. "What the..?"

"Alright, now I know how to handle this kind of weather. Everyone find a partner." Bret Hart had instead wrapped his arm around said showstopper and taken the podium. "We don't wanna get lost in the snow so stay close and let's head to the resort."

Hunter was about to blow his top but instead grabbed onto the only one without a held hand; Cena.

Cole latched on to Randy and caught up to Shawn. "I swear I'm going to kill you while you're sleeping."

"But it wasn't my fault!"

"Of course it was! I mean what kind of moron doesn't tell you where you're going? Now no one has any clothes because we packed for warm weather!" He shook in despair at the thought of Randy wearing nothing but a speedo in the freezing cold.

"Well look, I'm very sorry ...again but Hunter took care of all that. He made sure that everything was taken care of. Now can we get off this and go have a good time."

Cole rolled his eyes again when the dirty blonde smiled the sweetest smile he could muster. For him to be such a handsome guy, he was a ditz too often. Cole often wondered how Hunter could deal with the antics but maybe it was why Randy could deal with him; just because.

"You're clueless Michaels."

Cole looked up to Randy and focused on the task at hand. Now was the time to look around and about for the perfect make-up present for the tan man.

Randy walks in annoyed, angry and eerie silence. Was Hunter serious? Was everyone here serious? He couldn't believe his Evolution partner would do something like this to him; he knew he despised cold in any degree. He made this whole trip sound like that time his father, Cowboy Bob, had became stricken with a "good idea" to send his boy to Summer camp. He hopes quietly that Hunter contains Bret within his area - as the last and final thing The Viper needed was his already overcrowded, awful, ruined, horrible vacation to be over. He doesn't need another infamous "Bret The Hitman Hart story" webbing it's way into his mind. He really, really doesn't. Not now. Not later. Not backstage somewhere. Not ever. He truly doesn't care.  
>It's not that Randy is rude, he just was not taught to politely pretend to be nice to people he couldn't stand… it's an Orton thing; one of those genetic things he's sure will pass down to his snotty children.<p>

He suppresses a hiss, watching Morrison running off with Miz with Riley in tow; this was the great opportunity he was waiting for to accomplish snowboarding; just as good as his surfing skills. His mind was settled immediately on the great time that they would have at the ski lodge, showing Miz how to ski and snowboard, shoving Riley down the slope and watching his annoying, overly pandering self slam into a tree.

Why did they get to have a great time and he didn't?

His glare sets back down onto Cole for not having known about this ahead of time, and cuddles up into him. His tattooed body already shaking from the cold that he had no tolerance for in more than one way.

"I think I'm going to be sick this entire vacation…" he admits to Cole as they get their now-useless bags from the claim and head out to the car. The cold weather hitting the sleeve-less Orton, little flakes of snow landing on him that Rhodes and DiBiase brush off of him, he cuddles up into one of the side seats in the limousine, "I fucking hate everything," he stares daggers out the windows, the snow fall increasing each second. His knees are pulled to his chest and his arms latch onto Cole and brumates himself with Ted and Cody. Did someone not even have the brains to keep the engine running to heat the car?

"When we get back home, we'll sell your house in New York and just live at your house in Texas.. We don't need two houses… It's more than big enough for the three of us… and then some."

Cole only gave a curt nod and looked at his watch. As soon as they got to the resort it would be time to get in bed or on the couch- the second option probably the most applicable seeing as how the viper was seething.  
>He sighed and scanned the group. The younger guys were just fooling around like usual, Randy was bundled up with the other third generation superstars, and everyone else was just talking away.<p>

Why couldn't people just shut up and let him think?

"Oh man, its huge!" John's voice drew him from his thoughts and he merely glanced out the window before it drew him in. The place was gorgeous- from the outside at least: with all the snow on every ledge it could reach; like a pure blanket of white that differed against the dark hard wood. Then the moonlight only added to the beauty of the glistening snow.

Cole squinted to try and pronounce the hotel's name. "Chalet...Anders?" He said it over and over again, trying to find out if he was saying it right but no one else knew so it was somewhat pointless- he concluded.  
>He shifted his gaze to Randy to see if the man's expression had changed but suddenly the limo jerked forwards and threw everyone around. The ride suddenly sputtered and stopped.<p>

The chauffer quickly called back to everyone, checking their well being and apologizing for the jolt. It seemed they had driven into a ditch but seeing as they were only so far from the resort, he figured they could just grab their stuff and head on in. Of course Randy would complain all the way as they trudged through the snow. That was what he did. Cole loved the complaints all the same

Within minutes they were there.

Ever the immature, Cody and Ted snicker to each other from opposite sides of Randy's tattooed arms. They wondered how many times John had to yell "Oh man, it's huge!" through out his illustrious career. There had to be some reason for all that undue success.

The two pick up pace immediately at their shared anger and drag Randy off into the lodge, shoving hardly past Cena and making it a point to push him. They don't bother to look back and see if he ends up with a face full of snow; they have better things to do - like Randy - than occupy another second of their vacation with Cena. This was a vacation, wasn't it?… It should have been a break away from Superman.

They feel the shivered chills from the Viper settling down, the chattering of his spiked teeth coming to a halt as the warm inside washes over him… He's still in a vile mood, of course… that might have lasted the entire trip. The two leave him on a chair beside the fireplace, waiting for Cole to get their room key as they browse around separately.

Even at night, Morrison was set on getting straight to all of the activities, whereas Miz just wanted to go to sleep, jet lagged and angry about having a suitcase full of speedos, baby oil and at least forty pairs of different sunglasses and ten fancy beach hats to protect his hundred-dollar haircut. He leans against the activities counter, ignoring Morrison signing them up for every single thing there was to do. Miz observes his newly manicured nails - out of boredom - that Riley had done so perfectly on the plane ride. Maybe not so perfectly, as he quickly yells for him to get over here with a nail file and fix the slight chip on his middle finger. With no complaints, and complete eagerness, Riley runs over with his briefcase of miscellaneous stuff, and abandons Cole and Swagger at the front desk. It seemed they already had their nights occupied; Swagger with finding a vacation date and Cole keeping his thunder-thighs of a wife somewhere within the realm of "happy"

Randy's snuggled up on the warm leather chair, sipping at the cup of hot chocolate in his hand and attempting to settle himself on the idea that this would be an okay thing. He remembers having a cute photo of Cody back home on one of his winter vacation trips, he knows he owns snowboarding glasses, but isn't sure if he was just dressing for the fashion of it on the trip with Ted or that he really could. He decided it was the first one. He smiles to himself at how good Cody looks and watches him observe the lobby for a bit. His gaze turns back to Cole and he sighs guiltily, knowing he had to act much better than what he was… He knows Cole loves him, and treats him a hell of a lot better than Dave ever had, or ever could have. He gets up, giving Ted the rest of his drink on his short walk over to Michael; his gaze adverted as he almost instantly converts back to the quiet and scared kicked-puppy that Batista made him into.

He gets up, giving Ted the rest of his drink on his short walk over to Michael; his gaze adverted as he almost instantly converts back to the quiet and scared kicked-puppy that Batista made him into.

Cole immediately took notice. So much time spent with his wife just made it instinctive. "You feeling a little better about this place?" Honestly he didn't want an answer because the fact that Randall had actually approached him first, told him everything. The unusual action alone sent the message. "I'm gonna go check out our room then." He lightly kissed his love's hand and walked off nonchalantly, making it a point to shove Riley who was so enthralled in the ever-boring nails of the Miz. The rookie was really hooked. Cole loved Mike as a performer but the guy wasn't that great a person that he needed worshippers. Randy on the other hand...he didn't need to say.

John groaned as he leaned against a far wall. This was bogus. No, he wasn't so upset about the setting. Christmas in Massachusetts was no different. What was really throwing him off was the two priceless princes that kept giving him the evil eye. What was their problem anyway? Now, he will admit that he overstepped his boundaries once or twice with the Orton but Randy forgave him, so what was their deal? And did they really have the nerve to push him earlier? The first thing he wanted to remember about the trip wasn't having a face full of snow. He shook it off and sighed. As much as they really threw him off his game, he actually like the runts. It wasn't like the two didn't have that boyish youthful charm. He loved that but he knew they'd reject him. They NEVER let anyone inside their little twosome except their fearless leader so he'd just grin and bear it but the way they explored the lobby with such curiosity made it that much harder for him. Guess it was time to strike up a distracting conversation with Swagger.

Cole examined the room once more before finding Shawn. There were some things he needed to make a special request for; among the most important were extra blankets for their bed. "Michaels! I asked for more blankets nearly five minutes ago! My wife is tired and I'd like to see you explain to him why he's gonna have to freeze in his sleep!" Shawn could only role his eyes and retrieve the materials. With a victorious smirk, Cole went to the room and made the bed. With all the extra spreading he could've sworn it was a foot higher. It was probably just him though. Finding everything in place he went back to the lobby and signaled him that everything was in place and he'd be waiting in the room.

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><p>Well looks like a good start to me! R and R! Thank you!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, so it took some time but here is the next part :) hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I did writing with my awesome co-author!

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><p>Randy watches Cole leave his side in silence, momentarily feeling abandonment before he was immediately clung around the waist from Cody's familiar arm and obnoxious plastic face mask digging into his side. Cody explains angrily that Ted is enthralled with the giant A-Zander fish on the lobby wall for their ice-fishing advertisement, and wants one for their house. He's angry and seething, and acting as if only Randy's body could remedy the situation…. Which it could half … Most of the time…. All of the time.<p>

Ted pokes in on Swagger and Cena's conversation. Swaggers constant pining for a long-term boyfriend being the topic. Ted is sure he and Cena are sharing the same thought in their heads: Swagger's gravestone will one day read "JACK SWAGGER. STILL SINGLE." Maybe if he didn't spit on everyone during their date. DiBiase inches a little more behind Swagger rather than directly in front of him. "Let Cena get spat on…" he thinks to himself and attempts to change the subject before seeing Cody and Randy take off for Cole. What was so great about Cole anyway? Ted shakes his head and grumbles in that spoiled-rich-kid tone that annoys just about everybody but Randy and Cody.

Meanwhile, Riley has set to standing directly in front of Morrison, and moving each way that he did to keep blocking his view of Miz. "So, maybe you can wear some of those cool fluffy ear muffs instead of those awesome fedoras, right?" he sounds obnoxiously upbeat, for a football player, he held conversation like a cheerleader, everything had a question at the end, his words constantly going with a upwards inflection. "Those awesome furry snow boots? I have to get myself some of those, man? I'm gonna be out there all day? Showing you all these cool tricks?"

Miz doesn't bother a reply, maybe a nod here and there, and eventually walks away from Riley who follows behind him so quick that he trips into his back and nearly knocks him over if it wasn't for Morrison. "So, I'm not sleeping on the futon this time. I'm going to make Morrison sleep on it!" his voice is matter-of-fact with the same upward inflection, talking as if John Morrison hadn't even been standing there… looking much better with his straight hair and shaved face. He must have really wanted some vacation-action.

"Really? Really? This place doesn't have any latte's ready for me? Do they know who I AM?" Miz growls with frustration, turning to his personal assistant and demanding he go get, or make him one. And god help him if he forgot to bring a muffin with that. A blueberry muffin, or maybe one of those delicious sugar ones… Or both. His blue eyes scan the room momentarily, he certainly wasn't feeling friendly, but he did want the rest of the paparazzi roster to leave him alone for the duration of the trip - except for Cole of course, he always had time for Cole… he could listen to him talk about how great "The most must-see Superstar in WWE history" was; regardless, it gets Riley away for a few seconds by telling him to bother Swagger… And by bother, Riley had set to tell him and Cena about all the dates he's recently had - and not dinners out with The Miz at all of the fanciest celebrity high-profile restaurants.

Honestly, John was glad the dumb blonde of a brunette had wandered off.

Riley wasn't a bad guy, no not at all, but the kid was a rookie. Rookies need to understand they are at the bottom of the food chain. Morrison figured Miz may have given the kid the wrong idea by being a little nice to him. He rolled his eyes and flipped his fluffy brown locks over his shoulder. The action wasn't a normal gesture but he had the completely reasonable feeling that the eyes of a certain "must-see" faux-hawked man were on him. Flashing a golden smile, he sauntered past the watcher and winked. Now to wait in his room because he KNEW what was inevitable. Better lay out some new sheets for later.

Across the room at the welcome desk, the big man stood. "Okay, lady. No really- don't worry about it. Just give me our room key." Hunter wasn't as thrilled as when Shawn had first pitched the idea to him. A nice cozy winter getaway with his Shawn sounded as good as it got but then Shawn insisted they take Cole and Orton. No problem, but then Cena over hears and wants to come along. Whatever, he always comes, but then John tells all the other guys.  
>He gave into that as long as he and Shawn got their alone time. BUT the bouncy dirty blonde ruined everything when he brought Bret along. Gosh, if that man wasn't annoying! Not only does he talk, but he talks about nothing! Even now he was probably trying to talk about his youthful days to one of the younger guys. The thought made him look over at the man. And now he had to share a room with him. This was going to be a long vacation.<p>

"Swagger, I guess you and I are sharing a room." John sighed, defeated; it seemed everyone was turning in now so he wouldn't want to be the odd one out. He could hear Jack mumble what he believed to be a disappointed retort. "Hey, at least you wont be sleeping alone tonight. You got me to cuddle up with, right?" The idea didn't sound that bad to him but Jack wasn't his...type. Maybe he'd find a way to sneak into the daddy's boys' room. He laughed to himself as he schemed and began to walk to the room.

Cole waited. When was Randy coming? He had already taken his shower and now he was just lounging in a chair. He had checked the fridge in the suite and found a bottle of wine; the date nearly 10 years before. The stuff was actually good now only if Randy would come in the place and confirm that.

Swagger is furious at the idea that he had to share a room with Cena, and storms immediately over to the front desk to give the woman a piece of his Sylvester-tongued mind; starting a scene until he had to be dragged away by someone. He doesn't take note at who drags him off, but he shrugs them off him violently and storms off to Cole's room, begging to stay there until he realizes he's harping in on Cole's plans for romance - not that he cared: because he didn't. Not at all. Care? Swagger? Not a chance… He's thrown out of the room by DiBiase walking in.

The All-American American storms the hallways, stomping with an childish tantrum. Maybe in the morning there would be a single person all alone in the big resort to romance with his medals, and charms, and trophies, charm, certificates and awards ….and charm. Even Swagger knows that he has more gold than he does the ability to woo someone… Maybe Riley would be up for some romance… he shudders at the thought and realizes his day will probably be riddled with Bret Hart telling him stories.

He heads off towards his room, announcing as he walks in "Have fun in MY room tonight, Cena. You're finding somewhere else to stay tomorrow," he growls, kicking off his shoes where ever they wanted to land, and searching for the remote to the - his - television. He feels the impending series of "probably shouldn't have done that" thoughts, and tries to settle to his own undeserved confidence.

Ted wanders around the hotel room quietly, picking up a few things here and there and setting them back down. How long was Cody going to stay mad at him for wanting to go ice fishing? Or whatever it was he was angry about. He knows he was being insensitive to his feelings about his love for fishing, but it was completely uncalled for. He flops down on the bed, just right of the middle in his usual spot where Randy would sleep, he sets the video game remote control next to him, moving it around randomly when he gets antsy about Rhodes coming in the room. He keeps it close, but decides maybe it's better left casually near by, until he wants it close again. He wanted to be subtle, but ingenious. He's glad Cole is in the shower while he's fussing around like an idiot - why did his dad get to have Virgil? Where was his Virgil to be doing these things for him?… Maybe he would have to make Swagger and Riley his Virgil's for the week. It was a pretty good idea in his mind, anyway. He turns his gaze over to Cole in the chair, and decides that he wanted that comfortable chair, but sets to grumbling about it on the bed until he feels the undeniable need to talk; as much as he was still getting used to his being around, but still very appreciative that he had Randy instead of Dave. He hits him up for conversation, starting casually but still holding his rich-kid voice of derision.

"I mean, you like to fish too… that's how this… mess," he gestures around the room, "started… It's not like I caused a mess like this by fishing. Why should Cody always be upset with me because I like to do that? I mean.. Jeeze. I know it's below my social class, but I still like to do it. It's …fun," he reasons as if he was talking to his father.. The man who "fished" by lounging on a deck folding chair in his bathing shorts and sunglasses while Virgil did all the real fishing.

He perks up at the knock on the door, about to get up when he settles back down from his mid-darting position and casually waves off Cole to answer it with some demeaning hand signal. Maybe that was just as bad as laughing at his idea that 10 Years was "finely aged wine" compared to the ones that he and his father had. Not that he hadn't had his own share of cheap liquor store wine from Cody's house; though with the way his own father courted Dusty, he did have some very vintage delicious choices.

Maybe Cody's common low-class upbringing was rubbing off on his high-class genetics… but of course, all that thought and all of his contained anger falls into the trash when he sets eyes on his dashing Cody Rhodes wrapped around his Orton's arm looking so gorgeous… He rolls his eyes for show, and looks away from them, trying to keep an upkeep of "don't care" on his face rather than his tongue rolling out in his Tex Avery type reaction that always seemed to happen when he set eyes on Rhodes…twenty eight years and he still had the same reaction to the common Cody.

Randy nods Cody from his arm as he walks in quietly, still feeling a little bad about mouthing off and acting like a jerk. He knows Dave taught him to be accepting in all situations, and just because he was gone didn't mean that his "training" was gone. He knew better than to treat Cole poorly. He smiles awkwardly, trying to look apologetic with out kneeling down in front of everybody… wondering quietly if that was enough for Michael as he huddles up submissively to him.

"Anything I can do for you?" he asks, his monotone voice sheepish. "I got these cookies that I know you like from the lobby, if that helps?" of course, he never liked them too much, and didn't particularly care for sweets unless he was eating them off his Legacy boys. Ted's obsessive love of chocolate cheesecake a la mode, and Cody's constant snacking on anything…. He grins at that thought but settles himself down quickly… when he glances over at them having an apology make-up session, he takes the opportunity to turn Cole's attention towards them, rather than himself feeling awkward and scared… They were hott.

Times like these were the reasons Orton had for convincing Michael that a four-way relationship was the only way that he could ever thrive in a relationship with anyone. He needed someone privately for himself, a husband that was there to protect and care for him, while he protected Rhodes and DiBiase… and with opportunities for various kinds of sex, how could Cole have even refused?

Randy licks his lips at the sight of Ted pulling Cody down on top of him, their lips meeting desirously until Cody's distracted by a video game controller just left of DiBiase's head in the pillow. He ignores him immediately, "Do they have Zelda? Or Kirby? All hotels have Kirby!" he grins excitedly, shoving off of him and foiling his plans completely as he sets to buying the hourly sessions on the television. Ted didn't come in hourly sessions, like most of his lovers, but Kirby sure did; and he wasn't one to keep the pink Nintendo character waiting, and Cody wasn't about to let down the good citizens of Dream Land.

Cole could only smirk at the dejected look that graced itself on DiBiase's face. So little rich boys don't always get what they want, huh? Feeling the warmth of the Missouri native beside him, he then turned his attention back towards the crisp baked piece offering his husband had supplied him with. Cookies. Never having too much of a taste for sweets, made it hard for anybody to give him much but only his Randy could get him the ones he adored. The man was such a softy for him. Maybe he'd have fun with that later on this trip...

He picked up a cookie and bit into it, Cole trying to start up a conversation of such. "Funny, fishing's kind of the reason we're on this trip." The questioning look he got from the boys made him continue. "I mean, Shawn and I where on a fishing trip when we decided to go on vacation. Though then I …didn't expect to be …here," He laughed uneasily.

Just in that moment his phone rung. He checked the caller I.D and decided to let it ring; not wanting to answer it. No body in their right mind would want to answer it. I mean when you're on vacation, who would take a call from Booker T? Certainly not this commentator.  
>He already knew what the overrated former star wanted. This was Cole's vacation time. There was no way he was going to come back to work SmackDown with him just to get talked about and degraded. He had bigger fish to fry- or catch- like bonding with Rhodes and DiBiase. Randy had been adamant about him spending time with them so right now he had his sights set on one thing; figuring out how to play Kirby.<p>

Morrison strutted around the room like only he could in a towel, waiting as patiently as humanly possible. Maybe he was given the wrong signal. He was positive Miz was supposed to be in there already. He had quickly taken a shower and washed his hair, leaving it in a messy ponytail seeing as how he thought it would be pulled out by a certain someone. Whatever was going on, he knew he was freezing and he needed to get some warmth or he'd be miserable for the rest of the trip. Sighing heavily, he threw a big hoodie on and some pajama bottoms; the regular clothes would be less appealing to the eye but he wasn't trying to flaunt so much as keep warm.

There was a knock at the door and Alex stumbled in laughing obnoxiously and tripping all over the place. John shook his head in disappointment and walked down the hall, calling out. "Mike, how many times do I have to tell you: stop getting the rookies drunk!"

Cena sniggered from his place on the couch, seeing as how Jack had great pleasure in kicking him off the bed. You'd think that Jack would at least give him the thicker blanket- oh wait, this is Jack Swagger, so no one ever REALLY expects too much kindness from him.

John laughed to keep from sighing. Standing to his feet, he strolled over to the few things Jack laid out on the floor from his bag; metals, pictures, trophies. Did he think someone would steal from him or something? Why bring all of that with him? They were impressive no less- John wouldn't deny that. They were all so...shiny and as childish as it sounded, John loved shiny things. He was drawn to them, maybe that's why he always goes after the title, right? And Randy.

He smiled and picked the mementos of mediocrity- because lets face it, the old metals weren't as significant in the real world- up in his hands, enjoying the smooth cool feel over his hands. A call from Jack had him throwing the item back down and rushing back over to the couch. He dropped his head in shame at the warning glare he was given. "I just wanted to see 'em." He sunk into the seat knowing, tonight wasn't going to be so well for him.

"BRET! Could you bring me a towel!" The Hart raised from his chair in a elderly fashion. The guy was an old geezer, Hunter concluded. Why? Why? WHY? He dropped his face in his hands, the golden locks of his flowing around his face. Then he registered the request and stood, bum rushing Bret to get to the bathroom first. He threw in the towel and closed the door, sneering at the Canadian.

"What's your problem, Big Nose?" Bret smirked. Yeah, he loved getting Hunter all wound up. Force of habit from his younger days and everyone knew how much he loved to live in his younger days.

Hunter shoved him and moved back to his seat on the bed, "I'm not taking any chances on you, Bret. I swear to you- if you say one word, tell one story, look at my Shawn ONE time- I'll ski over you're face tomorrow and make it look like a bloody accident. It's not like Shawn will know the difference." The joking tone in his voice did nothing to hide how very serious he was.

Bret laughed dryly and took a seat. "Whatever you say, H."

Finally, the Priceless boys had tired themselves out trying to explain the basic fundamentals of how the game controller worked. Cole never felt so confused in his life then when he actually started playing and Cody began yelling screams of "No, press A!", "Press B! Press B!", and "EAT THAT! Don't hit it, EAT IT!" Since when did remotes have letters on them instead of numbers?

He shook the thought and joined Orton on the couch. The man had a front row view to all the chaos and the few hours in between could be characterized by his bellows of rare laughter.

Cole patted his thigh, "The boys are sleep and we could join them but... I'm hungry. You?"

"Oh, So you've FINALLY showered? Did you remember to shave too? Oh yeah... you did!" Alex grins like an idiot, his palms clasping against Morrison's cheeks and smudging them around his face as if he had been the man's grandmother. "You know, Miz thinks your REAL nasty when like, you totally look like... hairy and like... yeah..." he drifts off as Miz shuts him up with a slap against the back of his head that only aids in quieting him slowly - rather than the sudden silence that Miz had been aiming for. He stumbles off onto the nearest bed, collapsing down on top of Morrison's shoe, or some other clothes that get lost under his near three-hundred pound muscular body.

He gets up only moments later, allowing Miz only a mere, fleeting second with Morrison; having cozyed up close to his chest with a hand drifting down those perfectly sculpted abs, a finger doodling absently between them as his blue eyes focus on Morrison's, some not-so-apology drabbling from his vocals that isn't much of a "Well Riley was wrong" than it is a "Riley is so damn right."

Suddenly, he found himself regretting getting a drink anywhere near Alex; he had warned him that he didn't hold his liquor very well at all, but Miz hadn't listened at all. He was a talker, not a listener. He also hadn't put any bet on him being wide-awake and not passed out at the bar.

"Damn it," he cusses under his breath - which seemed more like shouting to everyone who wasn't Mike Mizanin. He catches Riley as he falls onto him, a clamoring pile of limbs as they crash onto the floor.

"Why are you, like, down there? Wait, I'm here too!" he smiles oafishly, getting thrown up off of him by Morrison and regaining his composure only slightly as he falls back down on the bed, "Can I get another beer?" he asks to the ceiling, reaching out randomly for anyone to help him up, though no one makes any attempt to help him.

Miz rises from the floor with Morrison's help, brushing himself off and enjoying the feeling of Morrison's hands brushing off his rear that comes to a short lived thrill - "What are YOU wearing?" he asks, his hand waving over the chosen outfit, "Take that off and put something else on! What would people see if they saw me with YOU dressed like… like a hobo!" he growls, "I'm a champion! I'm the most must-see champion in the history of every sport! I'm in papers and television and I'm all over the world! You want me to be photographed with you looking like this? You should hide in the closet while I call my personal stylist! She'll know what to do!" he screams during his girly-panic, running to his phone. "Oh god… no service? What am I going to do here with no service!" he cries out in frustration, demanding Morrison go change before he even set another hand on his body.

He turns his attention away from John, his shouting ceasing momentarily before starting up again, "Where is my latte! Why is it so cold in here? RI- Oh, what's the point!" he scouts the room quickly, his hands balled into fists at his side at his having to do everything himself as he searches for a thermostat to turn the heat up and settle himself back on the bed. "My nails look horrible," he pouts, sitting there with defeat, "I'm just going to go to bed," he says, shoving Riley off of him a third or fourth time, allowing him to pass out in the opposite bed while he starts to kicking his Armani loafers off and stripping out of his vest and shirt; struggling slightly with his tie.. He glances up for a second, listening to the familiar shriek of Swagger's ring through the lodge before shaking his head and rolling his eyes… Swagger was such an idiot.

The All-American American is completely unaware of his shouting ringing through the lodge, possibly waking everyone who had already been to sleep. How dare Cena touch his things!

Jack gathers his beloved possessions quickly, decorating his side of the room with them as he polished each one carefully from Cena's grubby fingers, "Keep your hands off of my stuff," he finally says when his voice lowers down, from much notice from hotel staff banging on the door minutes ago. "You can see my stuff when they open up the Jack Swagger Hall of Fame back in my hometown in Perry, Oklahoma! It'll be huge, floors and floors full of my all my accomplishments!" he states proudly as he sets up the largest trophy that he had brought along with him, no where near the real amount he had left in his father's safe keeping back home, and not even the largest by stature to the rest of the ones that he had back home.

He watches Cena carefully, being extremely vocal about hating to have to share a room with him, and very unwavering over the idea that he would search for a new hotel far, far away from this one for John to go to - and maybe miss his flight home while he was at it.

Strutting his long legs back to the bathroom, he finishes readying himself for bed in his Oklahoma University shorts that seemed more like women's booty-shorts and football jersey styled tank. He has a momentary panic attack as he dumps his suitcase out on the floor, searching for something amidst his pile of unnecessary junk, his heavy breathing and racing pulse making his search an obvious no-joke. He slides across the floors in his oversized crimson and cream giant-sneaker shaped Oklahoma U slippers, nearly failing to stop as he reaches his other suitcase at the door, dragging it back over to his bed and starting to dump clothes out again, obnoxious Hawaii print shirts and generic tourist gear toppling out before he gasps with relief… sighing happily and setting his searched for possessions aside as he repacks everything by stuffing it in one go into one suitcase. There was no way he was going to bed with out his faithful Boomer & Sooner stuffed ponies standing watch on the dresser.

Randy smiles, yawning and cuddling up closer to Cole, his tattooed arms unwrapping from their seemingly fixed hold on Cole's arm; he was quite the intimidating arm candy in front of his fellow announcers… especially when Michael felt the need to rile all of them up, start a fight, and have Orton finish it for him… but he doesn't mind… He actually enjoys it.

He thinks his words over carefully, much unlike Cole; though he does love how he never holds his tongue about anything… it's just one of those things that everyone hates about him that makes him absolutely love him. He shakes his head at himself, wondering if the voices floating around his skull thought he was just crazy for that as he did.

He narrows his eyes slightly, wondering if his announcer meant that… hungry? Food? The boys were asleep and he wanted …food? So much for all of those baby books… again… "Sure," he smiles with a unnoticeable hint of awkwardness as he gets up off the couch.

Again, he doesn't voice that he would much rather have those Caribbean sea-food kabob things, or make any mention of what food choices had been around here…. Nor was it his ideal place to start baby-making… at least that settled his obnoxious drive for offspring during their vacation.

Of course, he makes sure that Cody and Ted are properly tucked away in bed, and that Cody had his bottled water on the night stand as usual so he didn't have to get up and wander for it. They were adorable when they slept. Adorable…. Almost innocent. They looked innocent, well, Ted looked innocent, he almost always did, Cody just couldn't erase that inherited Rhodes naughtiness from his face no matter what he did…

"So… what do you want to go get?" he asks, his mind wandering to the tasty kabob sticks he loves, but ridding it from his mind quickly. This was far from the place to get one of those. He searches the room for his dress shirt, throwing it on over his wife beater and leaving a few buttons on top undone, "Do I look alright?" he asks, some self consciousness running through him, it was always so hard to impress Cole…

Cole could only stifle a laugh. "Are you kidding me? I don't need to answer that." He undid a few more buttons playfully and let out a soft sigh. It amazed him how such a big dominant guy could be so unaware of his own perfection. "How about you just get in bed and wait for me to come back with the food? I'll see if they have something warm and yummy, huh?" He kissed Randy's hand gently and grabbed his jacket. "Be back in a few minutes. You stay still, alright." Without waiting for an actual answer, he turned on his heels and left.

He knew Randy had to have been a little taken back by his request for a meal but that was kind of his purpose. The longer he made Randy wait the better things would be when the time came. It wasnt like he didn't see the flustered man always grooming through parenting magazines. He knew what Randal wanted but he wasn't too sure about the idea himself. Kids. With all the needless tormenting he got backstage about his and Randy's age difference, he was himself a little insecure about having youthful offspring. What if he was too old for hs children? He sighed as he reached the resturaunt downstairs and went inside the shanty little place. He'd get back to himself after he made sure Randy was taken care of.

"I cant take it!" John threw the pillow over his face in an attempt to ease his racing mind- as if the pillow would somehow block whatever was causing the thoughts to appear. He had been moving about the room all night for two reasons: one was the fact that he didnt exacty have a sleeping spot. The floor, couch, table, and bathtub were all about on the same level when it came to comfortability. There was only one place he knew he'd be at ease and that lead to the second reason he was about. Miz. Alex Riley had taken over the smaller bed completely by himself and the older of the two had more than enough room on the king sized bed. The empty place next to the loud mouth superstar was calling the master of parkour but he was all too cautious about waking up the princess and in turn getting a busted conflicted, he just tossed back his hair and eased down the wall in misery. Guess he'd pretend one of the dust bunnies was his object off affection tonight.

The halls seemed a bit darker now to the blonde Texan as he crept in fear through the corridors. He bit his nails sharply and let his eyes wonder to every room. Some had light under them, some were pitch black only causing more chills up Shawn's spine. He hated that he came down here now. Alone. It was scary but most importantly it wasn't his fault. In their room, Hunter and Bret got into a bit of an arguement and Shawn got the brunt of it. Neither would speak so when his request for companionship on his venture through the resort was on the floor it went unanswered. At the time he figured he'd be quicker going about on his own but now it didnt seem so bright. Literally.

Cena rubbed his head sadly. Since when was vacation so stressful? Swagger had kicked him out the room. Well not exactly but John was not going to sleep sitting in the shower just because Jack needed somewhere to keep his stupid trophies. Actually they werent really stupid. They were nice and shiny, so shiny. John snapped back and continued his quest to find a room to camp out in. He hoped one of the guys wouldnt mind him lying out on the floor. He even brought his own sleeping bag which was why he was limping at the moment. You see, he was walking while he was still in his sleeping bag and he slid down the steps on his ever round butt. It was big but not even he could fall down 2 flights of stairs unscaved. Why was he in his sleeping bag like some little kid, you ask? Well, he didnt really have any pajamas for the cold weather so he visited the store and they gave him sleep wear. Footy pajamas to be mre acurate. It was a bit embarassing to say the list but that wasnt Johs biggest concern. He needed a place for his head and just as he was about to give up and fall flat on his face to spend the night in the hall, he heard a voice call to him. Curiosity turned to cheerfulness and John hopped to his friend. "Hey Rands. What you doin out here?"

Cole sighed for the hundreth time that day as he nodded and tried to brush the leech of his side. Since Shawn had found him, they were basically attached at the waist. Guess he was gonna play baby sitter until either Hunter found him or he would drop him off on his way back to his room. Either way, he tried his best to soothe the frightened veteran. "Now why are you down here again, Michaels?" He listened to the sobbed answer and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you really need chocolate at this hour?" Cole shook his head but looked up when they called his number to pick up his dish. Manuevering from Shawn's grip, he grabbed his bags and left the money, sneakily grinning as he nabbed a few coins from the tip jar. The employees didnt need it anyway. Its not like they deserved it. Shawn reprimanded him but Cole wasnt listening. He instead checked the food and smiled. Hopefully he'd suprise the man with the little taste of carribean.

Randy beams with modest excitement and joy at the thought of Cole loving the way that he looked. It was always something that worried him so obviously. His confidence had been broken before by Batista; and his new husband had built it back up so generously. He was proud to be the wife of Michael Cole.

He watches his second fashionista take care of the buttons with nothing short of expertise. His first fashionista was of course, Cody Rhodes, but Cole was a very second right behind him. He's about to protest to Cole leaving, all out of curiosity of course, but he is just rendered speechless by the request. He has never said "No" to him, not once, and so he sits quietly back on the bed… with a wild blush on his cheeks from such a romantic gesture as a kiss on the hand. Sitting still however, was quite the problem.

He does everything he could possibly do with in minutes, tidying the room needlessly, fixing the sheets for Cody and Ted, and running around doing chores. He wants everything to be perfect, making up for his awful over reaction to just how bad this trip was. His complaints about location, his body temperature and everything in between was more than enough to drive Cole insane, wasn't it? He sighs softly and looks around the room, blatantly ignoring the choice to just get into bed… although he does after ultimately settling in different places around the room.

He slips into their separate bed, adjusting himself to look more sultry, or at least trying to as he continues to change every position he can come up with, from sitting, to various laying positions.

At Morrison's outburst, Miz turns in his bed, just slightly making some amount of room that was just about sitting space as he sprawls, his arm falling off the end of the bed lazily… and begins to snore obnoxiously. He was even the pinnacle of annoying and loud when he slept. He mumbles something incoherent, maybe about waffles, or shoving a pinecone down Cena's throat the next day… that title belonged on his waist, not on Cena's. Even if John had decided to take use of the small space he had made, the moment he sat down it was more than likely Miz would have awaken, accusing Morrison of getting up and leaving in that instance.

Riley, on the other hand, is completely passed out face down on the bed, making no obnoxious sound as The Miz had been, but instead being the complete opposite. His body rose and fell almost unnoticeably with his breaths, his silence being almost a gift from God to make up for how atrocious Mike had been the entire day and night.

When Swagger wakes up at the interval set on his phone alarm, he's completely shocked to not find Cena sleeping nearby before, legitimately shocked. He throws the covers off of his bed and angrily slips into his Oklahoma slippers, storming around the room in search of him. Where the hell did he go? He was supposed to be standing watch so that no one had stolen his trophies, and do it all with out touching them with his grubby mitts. He runs over to the counter and swipes his keycard from the top, and getting into his WWE hoodie that was possibly the only thing he had that was not stamped with Oklahoma University propaganda. He leaves the room, looking around unsure and heading off in various directions that send him back to the room to check on his trophies every few minutes.

"How dare he just… just leave! Doesn't he know who I am?" he starts off to no one, being alone in the dark hallways and letting out an ear shattering scream when he bumped into a taxidermy bear. Now, embarrassed, and panicked, most of all thankful that no one had seen - aside from the non-English speaking woman who had opened her hotel door to look for the source of the screaming; he attempts to recollect himself on the floor. God he hated bears…

He brushes himself off, a fountain of swears just pouring from his mouth as he stomps off to find Cena, not before going back to check on his beloved trophies. He checks up and down the hall ways, and returns to the lobby where he ends up finding Shawn with Cole. He pulls the legendary man aside, telling Cole to be on his way as he starts off telling Michaels about his awful night, and how Cena had just abandoned his trophies while he was supposed to be guarding them, with out touching.

Randy stands with his arms crossed at the doors, his silver slit optics staring down in detest at Cena… Did he come all this way to hit on him here too? And just when he finds a good position to be seducing Cole in… he had to come and make noise outside his doorway. Assuming it was his beloved Cole, he went to the door to find out, and was unhappily surprised at his findings.

"What do you think you're doing out here… making noise like that?" he growls, stepping just outside of the room with the security latch to hold the door open so that he wasn't going to be locked out… he was the brains of the operation all of the time, "Do you want to make Cody and Ted wake up? …They are exhausted!" he hisses in Cena's face, his anger clearly evident. This just wasn't Cena's night…

He takes more of a look at him, glancing up and down and furrowing his brow, "And… what the hell are you doing in a sleeping bag …out here? Wait, …I don't want to even hear this …nonsense," he says, cutting Cena off just before he starts a response.

He rubs his temples with evident stress coursing through his veins before a realization dawns on him, "Are you… kidding me!" he yells out of nowhere, "Get out of here!" He glances up and down the halls in a panic, "Get out of here …NOW! Cole is going to be back here any minute! And he's going to see me! …Me! …Talking… talking to… you! Do you know what he's going to do? He's going to think I'm cheating on him and leave me! That's what! Get the fuck out of here before I put your skull through that wall!"

Meanwhile, Swagger is still continuing on to Shawn, having found somewhere to sit him down so he could properly complain while pacing around the chair. As if Shawn had not been around the entire time, he starts with himself waking up in the morning, and having to go through the rigorous task with his father to pack his trophies for traveling, and back to his father and how he was so proud of his accomplishments… which leads him back to his childhood. When he finally gets around to the current present time, after complaining of the plane ride, the people on it, and where it had landed… he starts right back up about Cena not watching his trophies, which of course, leads him back to how he got each and every one of them awarded to him.

If Hunter and Bret had gotten even a small taste of this one-sided conversation, they would have gotten on their knees and praised God for how quiet and out-of-the-way Shawn really turned out to be when compared to Swagger.

"I bet I could find some kind of trophy around here to win, too!" Jack states not-so-suddenly, taking some kind of athletic stance as he goes through a list of ideas he has in mind.

To say Shawn was nearly blown away from the way Jack weaved a story would be far from the truth. What really had entranced the veteran was how much spit managed to make its way in the box of rice he had planned on scarfing down. Its wierd how the lisp went from cute to utterly gross in a matter of minutes. He'd definitely tell Hunter to be weary of the man when asking for someone to say the prayer for the dinner they were planning for the next night. Shawn couldn't help but sigh as Jack continued his rant against his roomie.

Maybe it would be better for poor John to stay in their room. Not like it would be the first time Cena shared a bed with him and Hunter and from the way the man actually liked to listen to Bret ramble on, Shawn guessed they may have filled that generation gap so to speak. John made older guys attracted to him with that innocent dimpled grin and personality that balances out with his outstanding physique and..."Hey Jack listen, I'll take Cena off your hands for tonight huh? You just go back to sleep and you won't have to worry about John getting near you for tonight." He grinned, merely leaving after offering up the suggestion.

Cena waved his hands around frantically in defense as Randy spewed his disapproval loudly through the halls. "Randy no! Shhh! Its not like that. I just need to- I mean I want- just be quiet!" He looked around before bumrushing Randy to get in the room. He looked around desperately until he plopped on the bed.

Of course randy would protest but he couldve sworn that he heard Jack from the end of the corridor. He'd been grateful the man put up with him but he could NOT put up with Jack! The man was too big for the way he acted. He needed to be around the older guys. He loved their mature and more seasoned attributes. Randy and his boys were like that. I mean the boys were a little jumpy at all times but when wasn't Shawn? That's third generation superstars for you. Which reminded John why he was lonely in the first place. Stupid Dwayne. That of course was his secret and the reason why he had been flirtier than he usually was. The Samoan was playing games and he needed attention. I mean he was John Cena after all. He figured Randy wouldn't give him as much of that attention and not even entertain the thought since his focus was on Cole. So instead he'd steal the focus; a little trick he learned from Rhodes and Dibiase.

Cole started on his way back much quicker than usual. He'd heard his husband in distress, a sure sign from all the yelling that was usually avoided when the boys were sleeping. Randy knew better than to wake his premodonnas. He really hated to ruin their slumber- the looks on their faces were so calm and peaceful. Something had to be up.

He finally made it up the hall to see a glimpse of what he thought was Cena in a sleeping bag rush in the room. Why was the young man there? And why at this hour? Maybe Rady got a bit lonely. He didn't really know but that seemed the most logical. He was gone for a while and ever since their marriage they were attached at the waist so that all made sense. It wasn't like Randy and John were you know... messing around, right? No. He trusted Randy as his wife. When he told him he loved him it was all true. Randy wasn't mad enough to cheat on him. That was crazy to even think of. Shrugging, he kept walking until he approached the door, Randy having slammed it as soon as he got to it. Now he had food on his face...great.

Morrison finally found some resting place beside one of the doors at the end of the hallway. It was a bit disturbing but so was he in that instance. Miz wouldn't stop snoring his brains out and for as much as he wanted to choke him he wanted to snuggle up to him all the more. Freakin male hormones. Even then it didn't seem like such a bad plan to lie down with the quiet angel that was Alex Riley. The innocent serenity of the rookie made him feel too dirty to sleep near him though. The palace of wisdom would not approve. It would make him unworthy and that couldn't happen so he buckled down like the man he was and prepped for the night. Wait... Someone was coming this way. Swagger? Oh so this was Swagger's room. Maybe him and Cena wouldn't mind and finally let him sleep.

Unfortunately for the Showstopper, Jack was not about to stop his recollection of his own life-story, and was immediately inspired by the older man's accomplishments. Throwing his arm around him, not sensing at all that he had not been paying attention, or rather, or both, completely and utterly uninterested in his one-sided conversation, he rants on about how he is deserving of a DVD series and more merchandise than Cena had, because every person in Oklahoma wanted to support him with everything from shirts, banners, car decals, and everything in between.

When he's left alone after Shawn takes off, his agreement that Cena should go spend the night there instead was the best offer he had since his last try for a title. Unsurprisingly, on his way back to his own room, he is talking to himself, looking crazier than Orton as he plans out his next title with that thought fresh on his mind. That prestigious US Title being held by - well, whoever had it; what's-his-name with the hair and those pants… He doesn't care too much for the thought of the Superstar, other than he is not the All-American American, and is therefore undeserving of such a title. He keeps it in mind to ask Michaels if he would like to have the honor of inducting his All-American self into the hall of fame after that title win he had planned.

With Randy's silver eyes burning up with that dangerous red color, this was clearly not going to be Cena's best choice of a place to run. Randy throws the door back open, failing to have shut it on Cena while he was being brigaded; unnoticing his own lover standing there like a dope, and immediately sets to stalking down Cena… It was bad enough he was speaking to him, near his room, let alone in it… and that he had fell into the wall due to him.

His blood is boiling until his skin feels like that one time he fell into that pricker bush, or rather - was pushed into it. Making out with Ted only for his father to come to the door; the strict million-dollar man having no clue of their relationship… until he was telling Virgil to help the young Orton out of the bush. He doesn't need his Voices telling him to destroy Cena at the moment, and although he listens to them so perfectly, it's just instinctive at this point.

There was not a chance in hell he would let Cena near his prized Legacy boys, and hell must have froze over the way he had just sat there on the bed like that. Be quiet? Who was he to tell him to be quiet? With that demand in mind, he can't help but run over, throw him off the bed, and just start strangling him on the floor in such a natural and calm way that his burst of extreme violence almost seemed normal and relaxed. He's screaming almost incoherently, about how Cena was going to get him in trouble with Cole and cause him to be divorced a second time, and that he had no business going within a mile of where his family was.

With his fingers digging into Cena's neck, he is just crying and screaming over his relationship with Cole, and how Cena was an idiot. Was he seriously getting on his bed, thinking that he was just going to have sex with him? Randy Orton? The one who put his relationship with Michael Cole, Cody and Ted above anything in the world? How could he just insinuate something like that?

Wide awake, Ted and Cody just stand behind them, watching the scene taking place on the floor… Wondering aloud between themselves if Randy had successfully killed Cena, if they could be next in line for the WWE title - after Randy, of course… and then burst into a fight amongst themselves over who would get, and keep John's title.

Unfortunately for the pair, Randy eventually lets up on Cena, getting up and throwing him into the opposite wall, "Isn't it bad enough that I'm not Jack or Mike? You want him to leave me sooner than he really is? Get the fuck out of here before I DO kill you!"

Hurriedly, he rushes Cody and Ted back into their bed, desperately trying to get things back to normal before Cole comes back..

Swagger makes his way rather loudly down the hall, not with out, of course, stopping to chat up Cole for a minute on his way back to his glorious empty room, singing along to himself in such an awful tone-deaf way, "I'm a Sooner born, and when I die, I'll be a Sooner dead! Oklahoma, Okla- what the hell?" he blurts out upon opening the door, "Why are you in here? Are you stealing my trophies?" he gasps at Morrison, pushing him aside and setting to make sure they were all perfectly fine, which of course, they were.

"Nah!" he sighs with relief, pulling Morrison up under his arm, "You just want to know about 'em, huh? How to be great! Like me, of course! I know, you've been in that rut lately, and you need a champion's help!" he smiles brightly, dragging him over to one of the more smaller trophies, where everything had first started. "Hey, where is Riley and Miz?" he asks, doing his best to not let his awful lisp be so painfully obvious, "I'm sure they want to see all of my accomplishments, too! They're probably just shy, huh? Ya'll are welcome here anytime! Just not Cena… he's a touch-er… Y'know?"

This was the best vacation ever, if anyone wanted Swagger's opinion. Everyone so eager to listen and so interested in his accomplishments.

Cole couldn't help it. Watching Randy get all powerful like that- dominant outside of the ring- over him. Well it was pretty hot. The feeling of course left just as soon when he realized what emotion was spewing from his husband; what was actually said. Why would Randy think such a thing? Leave him? Randy, the boys; Why would he leave the best thing that ever happened to him? And for Swagger or Miz? No thanks. Sure he admired them but he was infatuated with Randy and he was even more attached to the boys. They were his sanctuary.

It was times like this that he really hated Dave. Randy should've had a whole heck of a lot more confidence than he did but no. It was diminished from the previous engagement. If only he could've been there first. He halted his wishful thinking as Cena was tossed so roughly out into the hall followed by his door being slammed. He wasn't surprised when he heard the "sorry"s poor from a much more sane viper. "Its okay Randy, really. I'm just glad you got rid of that loud mouth Cena." After taking the time to regroom himself he sat on the bed. He really needed to reassure his husband. But he all of that rooms occupants were groggy so maybe it could wait until tomorrow. For now, he'd usher his husband to bed and curl up under him; showing his emotions instead of saying them.

So now where was he to go? It was the middle of the night, he'd been kicked out twice, he was tired, and on top of all that, his sleeping bag ripped during Randy's assault. Just great. He sadly plopped on the stairs and curled up for some kind of warmth against the breath of this winter wonderland, when someone tapped his shoulder.

"Cmon Kid."

"Lord, is that you?" He swiped his eyes before he was hoisted to his feet. Of course, as he was met by a pink and black mingled he knew it was not the man upstairs calling but the Hit man. The guy was too easy to identify anywhere. He didn't know where he was being hauled off to but this was Bret we were talking about. The man wasn't exactly known for acts of violence against dimpled Massachusetts men. So he didn't care as long as he would get some type of- hopefully not eternal- rest.

No matter if he was on the mic or in person, Morrison found Jack's excessive blathering annoying. He wouldn't tell the tall muscle-bound blonde that. Not ever, no. Drew did that once and it did not turn out well. He remembered because that was the longest three hours ever looking for a long precious lock of McIntyre's hair. He didn't want the same fate. Creative already didn't want to push him and if he was to suddenly gain an obscene bald patch he'd be put further in obscurity than Kizarny. And that says something. So instead he smiled and gained interest in the immaculate trophies. Giving a "impressive" or "yes amazing" or Jack's favorite "that's incredible! I could never do that!" Whatever pleased the man and would allow him to sleep without the though of cozy cute Alex and the noisy object of his affection. Really though, the stuff was kinda creepy. Did the man really need a CD for the Oklahoma state song? Even California- land of big dreams, and sunny beaches- didn't get that much. Besides what made old dreary Oklahoma so special? Morrison smirked as he though about his home. All the red carpet events, showcases, culture, and big stars. Then he stopped thinking. He stopped doing everything to erase the previous thought. In the midst of thinking of some of the biggest stars he lingered on the loud mouth Cleveland native and right now he couldn't have that. He sighed and drug himself to the bed (or rather bathtub) to lie down. Sleep would not come easy tonight.

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><p>This is soo great! I gotta tell ya. writing with BeautyKillerRhodes is too cool, bro. i love her style ya know. Well hoped this part was worth the wait! please review!<p> 


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